


Sample Size

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Babies, Crack, Implied S&M, M/M, Making Babies, No mpreg, minor mentions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emperor Hux and Lord Ren want babies. One of each. Both ginger.</p>
<p>Ioann the medic has the worst day of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sample Size

Ioann the medic is not paid enough for this. He’s not actually sure how much he’s ‘paid’, per se, as the Empire takes a lot of the ‘salary’ (air quotes very much needed) back to off-set room, board, medical care, etc. Although he does think it’s unfair to make him pay for the last, as he’d probably just treat himself in his spare time if he ever got sick.

Whatever stipend he gets, it is _not_ enough.

This is the third sample. Literally the third. The third _viable_ one, and it’s from the same damn donor again.

Normally, when two people come down to make a baby, and they’re not a heterosexual couple… he sends them into the private rooms with the holos enabled and - a short while later - two confused and embarrassed men come back. The women don’t need to be sent to rooms, obviously, and if there’s only one man he has a little chat with the woman as they both try to pretend her significant other isn’t playing pool with his own cue.

Not so the Emperor and his Knight. 

The normal rules apparently don’t apply (he’s not going to ask) and the pair of them vanished into one room together. They were not gone long.

Two men came back, and two vials. One of them perfectly satisfactory (if… worryingly full), and the other… uh.

And again. And again. Ioann does not know quite how they’re managing it, but maybe it’s some weird Force thing because _no normal human male_ would be able to hand in the three containers that Lord Ren has. 

And that… Emperor Hux has not. 

“Still?” The thinner man dares him with his eyes to judge.   


“…if I could… have a word in private?”  


“I’m married to the man, if you hadn’t noticed. Whatever you want to say, you can say it to us both.”  


Right. Because: ‘Is this brutishly broad man with a seemingly unending stream of semen abusing you because the last three things you’ve brought me have had two other bodily fluids in them and those are very genetically interesting indeed but they lack the gametes required for these two “ginger” babies you seem to want very much and this is impeding the process?’ is something he a) wants to say and b) wants to say to the Emperor of the galaxy and c) wants to say in earshot of the man who can - by all accounts - kill him by sneezing.

Although, if the rumours are true, the man can also _hear him think said treasonous thoughts about the Emperor’s husband_ and oh shit Ioann is going to die.

“D-do you… uhm… is blood… often… present in your emissions?”  


“Only when I’m bleeding,” the Emperor replies, barely batting an eyelid.  


“…okay. It… sort of needs to… not.”  


He isn’t being abused, right? No one would willingly go back for a _third_ round of that if they didn’t like it? They both _look_ happy (if a little ragged, but as they’ve just had three rounds of ‘interesting’ intercourse, that’s to be expected). 

“What do you suggest?”  


“M…maybe you could… uhm. We have enough of Lord Ren’s samples.” Enough to actually produce an army of Rens, which Ioann _did not really think was necessary_. “Could you… go in alone?”  


“We’re making our children together,” Hux snaps, arms folded.   


“…they will still be formed from both of your samples, it’s just–”  


“Hux…” The tall one speaks, at last. “He’s got a point… we do get carried away. It’s not like I need to be in the room with you.”  


Ioann watches as the Emperor’s eyes narrow. And narrow. And then widen, with a grin hot on the heels. He looks ridiculously smug, and holds out his hand for container number _four_. 

He tries not to watch, but the man swaggers with such contentment towards the room, then throws a ridiculously flirtatious sneer at the Force-user over his shoulder.

Who sits, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the door as it closes. 

Ioann doesn’t know for sure, but he’s more than convinced that the damn man is fucking the Emperor _through the door_. With his mind. Or something. He’s suddenly very, very glad the rooms are soundproofed, and he stares at his terminal and starts prepping the host egg - gametes already removed - to accept the spliced samples. One boy, one girl. 

When the door opens a very short time later, Hux is almost staggering on his approach to the desk. His hair is slicked back, mussed slightly, and his lips are full and his eyes dark like a man who’s just had a _very good time_. He slams the container down, and then Ioann squeaks a thank you before…

…nope. Apparently now comes kissing. Noisy kissing. This is the **worst day of his life**. The minute the full fertilisation is over, he tells them to leave it with him and report back tomorrow. He could probably give them the Talk now, but he wants them to stop looking like they’ve just… well. Made a baby.

Please, Maker, please.

Ioann hopes to fuck the first lot takes. Although he does have a nice amount to work with, now if… _what if they don’t come out ginger?_

He’s going to die.


End file.
